


Trying Not to Panic

by Watermelonsmellinfellon



Category: Panic Room: House of Secrets
Genre: Blood, Death, Explicit Language, Gore, Horror, Other, Possible Romance, Self-Harm, Self-Mutilation, Traps, Violence, cursing, depends on how I feel, mentions of cutting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 03:52:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3963391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watermelonsmellinfellon/pseuds/Watermelonsmellinfellon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helen awakens in a wannabe horror movie scene and is seriously considering suicide just to get out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trying Not to Panic

**Author's Note:**

> Helen is 19. She is American. She was supposed to be at a concert. I changed the time of the game. It's current day, not 1999.

** A/N: Hello, people! **

** I don't own Panic Room: House of Secrets. **

** Helen is my character. **

** I have no beta. **

** ENJOY! **

* * *

 

Helen awoke to a very dirty room. A room she didn’t recognize.

It was not to her liking in terms of cleanliness and was that a bloody hand-print on the floor?

She shook her head, hoping to remove the cobwebs that seemed to make up her mind at the moment.

Sitting up, her head throbbed, making the room spin.

Placing her feet on the wooden floor, she tried to find herself. Arms and legs there. All her fingers… yep. Pretty sure all her toes were there as well. Yeah. Face felt fine and no pain other than what was in her head.

A quick pat down showed she was lacking her wallet, keys, and mobile.

The fuck?

In her pocket, was a cassette tape?

_**Listen to me.** _

So this was some sort of fucked up game? Who listens to cassettes anymore?

With a sigh, Helen looked around the room. A wannabe jukebox in the left corner. Straight ahead was painting of a mansion that reminded her of something from Dracula. A small shelf to her right and beside it was a boarded window with small streams of light bleeding through the cracks in the wood. Next to that was another shelf and below it, was a desk. On the desk, was an old recorder.

_Really_?

With an annoyed huff, she stood up, using the mattress as a stable support system, letting her legs get used to working once more.

Once she was sure she wouldn’t fall over, she grabbed the recorder from the desk and slid the cassette into it. God, she hadn’t used one of these since she was really little. Like, five or six at least.

She fumbled with the buttons, before finally pushing the correct one.

A male voice, a bit deep and gravelly, slid from the speakers.

“ _ **Hello, Helen,**_ ” the man said. He probably got her name from her ID in her wallet. The bastard.

“ ** _My name is Puppeteer and I want to play a game with you._** ”

Was this a horror move reject? Was she going to be fighting for her life or something?

“ ** _You’re locked in a house with many rooms and in each, there are tests waiting for you. They’ll bring you closer to your freedom, but you’ll have to risk your life to pass them._** ”

She called it, definitely.

“ ** _Now, you are staying in the only safe room in the house. Yours. Small gifts will arrive here every day. Today there are three puppets in this room. Try to find them._** ”

Helen paused the tape and looked up. One hanging over the window, one hanging from the bedpost, and one above the first shelf. She’d thought they were shitty decorations, but apparently they held meaning to the Puppeteer.

Though annoyed, she gathered them, finding two, ten cent bronze coins, two golden feathers, and two golden coins. She bit the coin and wrinkled her nose, real gold.

Beside the ancient computer on the desk, were three jars. One was filled with bronze coins, the next was golden coins, and the last held some feathers. She placed the objects in the proper container and sat on the bed once more to play the rest of the tape.

" ** _Well, now is the time for your first test. Look at the plan of the house that hangs on the wall before you._** ”

The painting.

With a huff, she moved over to it, waiting for further instruction.

“ ** _The first test awaits you in the kitchen, on the ground floor, in the right wing of the house. The room is unlocked for you. A light beneath means you may enter._** ”

Helen looked to the door and sighed.

She left the supposed ‘safety’ of her room, entering a dark hallway. What she noticed instantly, was that every door in the hallway, other than her own, had large spikes around the handles. Also, there were four security cameras stationed at both ends of the hall.

What the hell was this Puppeteer playing at?

Obvious, she wasn’t meant to be on this floor. She headed for the stairwell at the end of the hall, noticing that the cameras followed her every move.

The Puppeteer’s voice flowed in the silence. “ ** _Main law of this house is simple - you waste your life to get freedom._** ”

She descended the stairs, passing a large ass door with ten locks from top to bottom. So escaping was a no go. Great.

She passed it, cursing the Puppeteer out mentally.

“ ** _When the door closes behind you, the test will begin. You’ll lose blood by touching the handle, but it’s a productive step toward your freedom. Are you ready for the test?_** ”

Helen stared down at the spiked handle and balked at the thought of causing herself any pain that she personally didn’t want to inflict upon herself. The bastard.

She stared at the spiked handled for another moment, trying to find some way around having to grab it just to open the door. Or maybe she’d wait for someone to leave the room, if there was anyone in there. Or maybe even grabbing it and putting as little pressure as possible?

Reluctantly, she reached out and lightly and wrapped her hand around the silver handle. It didn’t move. Which meant…

She was sorely tempted to throw the damn recorder against the wall. Speaking of, the tape had stopped. She dropped it, not caring that it clacked to the floor. She also didn’t care if it broke.

With great reluctance, she tightened her hand on the door knob, wincing as little needle like objects pierced her skin slowly. It was okay. She’d used bigger thing to make herself bleed before. She could handle this. She could do it. She gave it a turn.

It opened finally.

The door closed behind her and she could hear the Puppeteer’s voice echoing through the room. So the bastard not only had a camera in the room, but he also had the room bugged with microphones and speakers. Creep.

“ ** _Well done, Helen. Now, your test had begun and you must find the following items in order to win. A rolling pin, a vase, a pie, and a ham. Good luck and please, don’t take too much time or else._** ”

She was sorely tempted to not do a damn thing, but bleeding hand required first aid and she prefer to get this over with so she could fix it up.

She located the items easily, out in the fucking open.

“ ** _Well done. You’ve earned yourself some rewards. You’ll find the jars in your room to be more full than before._** ”

_Yippee_.

“ ** _The feathers mean freedom and every time you reach a certain number, your freedom spreads. You’ve reached level three now and you may enter the living room. Good luck at learning the way of the house. I’ll be speaking to you soon._** ”

Helen sneered at the camera, moving over to the sing and running cold water over her bleeding hand.

“Hello!”

Helen jerked back, whirling around to find a woman very reminiscent to her mother when she was younger. Red hair, green eyes, and rather short.

“I’m Jenny Wallis. I generally stay in here, cooking and tidying up. Newcomers always begin their stay in this room, as part of the rules set by Puppeteer. I meet a lot of interesting people. It’s nice to meet you, Helen,” she smiled.

Helen nodded slowly. “Hi.”

“Are you hungry? I can cook you something?”

Helen nodded. “I can cook for myself though, you don’t have to,” she mumbled.

“Oh no, it’s okay! I just need a mortar and pestle. Could you help me find them?!”

Excitable, definitely.

“Uh… _sure_.”

“Great!”

Helen wondered if she was going to regret this.

* * *

 

**_Day 1_ **

_**So I’ve awoken in a haunted mansion with some strange guy who calls himself, ‘Puppeteer’ controlling my life here. He said something about freedom. Seems to like it a bit too much.** _

_**To get into rooms, I have to turn these odd knobs that are covered in spikes. Practically self mutilating unwillingly for once. I’m so pissed it isn’t funny.** _

_**I visited London in order to see some sights and to go to a concert, not to be kidnapped and forced to play in the ultimate horror movie wannabe game.** _

_**I met Jenny Wallis. She’s odd. Her perpetual cheer annoys me. What’s there to be happy about in this place?** _

_**I’m seriously contemplating just ending it once and for all.** _

_**It’s not like I’ve never thought about it before.** _

* * *

 

**A/N: The first is done.**

**How was it? Let me know.**

**Check out my other fics. Lots of Sherlock and Harry Potter.**

**See ya! :D**

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**CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR..<http://helly-watermelonsmellinfellon.tumblr.com/> I FOLLOW BACK.**

**Author's Note:**

> How was it?
> 
> Let me know.
> 
> Check me out on Tumblr.


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